Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
by Sue Pokorny
Summary: The title says it all. Companion piece to my tag for S&V, The Beginning of the End, but you don't need to read that to understand. Completely speculative on my part, probably AU after season 4.


_I know – what is she doing posting a different story than the one she's currently working on? Be assured, Bleeding Out Loud is complete and will post on schedule. This is… well… therapy. This is what I do when I really want to thump someone I am forced to work with and know that I can't. I'm sure it's not healthy, and I'm pretty sure it's a little bizarre, but writing something like this actually helps me keep my sunny disposition in tact on those very trying days. _

_That said, this is something that was running through my head (instead of what I really wanted to do to a living, breathing person) and got me all excited I just had to get it down in type. I have nothing against the actresses who've played Ruby, tho I think they could've looked a little harder at the wait staff and found someone with a little more talent. I just think the character is fun to hate. She's a demon. I, for one, cannot get behind the idea of a 'good' demon, so this is my take on where this is all leading. It does refer back to my tag to S&V, The Beginning of the End, but you don't need to have read that to understand. It's completely speculative on my part and will no doubt be completely AU by the end of season 4. But a girl can dream, right? I think the title says it all…._

**Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday**

Dean shot up, his sore muscles protesting the sudden movement. A low moan growled from his chest at the pain, his eyes clenched shut as his breath sawed through his throat. The time it took for the nightmares to fade had decreased dramatically with time, but the initial reaction was still as strong as ever. It's not like he expected to ever actually get used to the images Hell had left seared into his brain, but he'd sure like for them to give him a moment of respite now and again.

He lay back against the pillow, waiting for his heart to slow, forcing himself to breathe through his nose in an effort to ease the increased ache in his chest.

Unfortunately, the persistent pain couldn't be entirely blamed on the nightmare. The pounding of his heart slowly abated, leaving the familiar lingering ache that always accompanied bruised ribs. The latest hunt hadn't gone completely as planned, leaving Dean with a few new bruises and more than a few new concerns as to the mental, emotional and, let's face it, _demonic_ state of his brother.

Ever since the incident with the siren, Sam had been… distant. Dean had spent most of the afternoon and evening after that clusterfuck in the dive bar he had found just outside of Dubuque, not caring whether his brother joined him or remained sulking outside in the Impala. He'd planned on getting good and drunk, hoping the alcohol would drown out the words his brother had thrown at him thanks to the siren's poison. When he'd finally stumbled out hours later, the Impala had still been sitting in the darkened lot.

Sam was nowhere in sight.

Even through his drunken haze, he'd been able to remember his brother's phone buzzing more than once, the look on Sam's face telegraphing the identity of the caller without the need for words. It hadn't surprised Dean to find his brother gone.

But it had hurt.

Not even the whiskey had been enough to deaden that kind of pain.

He'd crawled into the backseat of the Chevy, and allowed the booze to take over and pull him into an alcohol induced unconsciousness, not caring about anything in the wake of the emotional pain he'd found himself in. The next conscious memory he had was Sam shaking him awake, the bright rays of the sun burning into the backs of his eyes. He'd dragged himself up and into the passenger seat, allowing his brother to drive them to the nearest motel before crashing again and sleeping through most of the day.

Sam had never mentioned where he'd disappeared to.

Dean hadn't wanted to ask.

They'd stumbled through more hunts, and Dean grimly noted the distance between them growing each day. They rarely spoke about anything other than the job, neither wanting to make the mistake of saying something that couldn't be taken back. They'd already said too much. They both knew it. Neither of them knew how to fix it.

The day of the last hunt, Sam had been quieter than usual, even slightly distracted, which was a direct cause for the current ache in Dean's body. The demon they had run across had tossed him into a wall, hard enough to crack plaster and leave a uniquely 'Dean sized' indent in the sheet rock. He did remember the initial shock of the landing, but after that, things got a little fuzzy. He remembered Sam shouting his name, and then he remembered watching through a haze of pain as the demon was pulled from the host's body and disintegrated into the hardwood floor.

The last thing he saw before unconsciousness took him was Sam's face leaning over him, a hard expression of anger replacing the expected one of concern in the familiar hazel eyes.

He turned his head, glancing around the motel room for the first time. He didn't have a clear recollection of having walked into the room, but hoped like hell his brother hadn't been forced to carry him. The other bed was still made up, obviously unused although the light streaming through the partially closed curtains told him the night was long gone. Sam must have gone for breakfast, he surmised as his stomach rumbled, hoping the kid brought back coffee, knowing the caffeine kick would help to clear the cobwebs still clinging to the inside of his brain.

He braced himself, one hand across his chest, and with a deliberate breath, pushed himself up to a sitting position, his legs swinging to hang over the side of the bed. He sat for a moment, letting the room right itself before opening his eyes and releasing the held breath.

Well, that sucked.

His eyes quickly roamed the area, alighting on a folded piece of paper propped on the nightstand between the two beds. He instantly recognized the scrawl of his name in his brother's hurried script and reached for the note.

That was when the bottom of his world fell out.

_Dean-_

_I'm sorry. I know you won't understand and I doubt if I could ever make you understand. But I know now that my destiny lies on a different path than yours. I know you tried. But this is simply how it is. Please take care of yourself. At least one Winchester should survive. Don't try to find me. _

_Sam_

Dean's lungs began to burn and he realized he hadn't taken a breath since he'd picked up the note.

Sam was gone.

What the hell?

After everything they'd been through… after everything Dean had done for him… he just left?

For a moment his vision blurred and he lifted a hand to angrily wipe the moisture from his eyes. His emotions tumbled over themselves, anger warring with despair and disappointment. But the strongest of all was the shock of disbelief that Sam had abandoned him without a word. That the steadfast devotion Dean had shown for the last member of his family had been rewarded with a kick in the ass as Sam skulked away in the dark when Dean was hurt and vulnerable and unable to do anything to stop him.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to the note he still held crumbled tightly in his fist.

Don't try to find him? Did Sam really know him at all? Did the stupid kid really believe Dean would give up so easily?

He'd spent his entire life protecting his brother, he wasn't about to stop now just because Sam had made the monumental mistake of listening to some black-eyed demon bitch and the even bigger blunder of believing her lies. As far as Dean was concerned, Sam needed him now more than ever. Dean had never given up on anything in his life. He wasn't about to start now, especially when his brother was being led by his dick down the path to destruction.

Folding the note carefully, he slid it into his back pocket, pulling his phone from the table. It wasn't surprising that his first call went to voicemail.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of, Sammy," he spoke in a low voice, the slight tremor betraying his anger and emotions. "You think you're a better hunter than me? Bring it on."

He snapped the phone closed, quickly opening it and pressing another number on the speed dial.

"Bobby," he barked before the man even had a chance to speak. "I need your help."

Snsnsnsnsnsnsnsns

It really hadn't been all that hard to track him down. Obviously wise to the whole GPS in the phone thing, Sam had tried to throw him off the trail by leaving his phone somewhere in Missouri. But Dean had expected that and he'd done something he knew his college educated brother wouldn't expect – he didn't bother to track Sam at all.

He tracked Ruby.

Dean knew that wherever the dark haired demon was, Sam wouldn't be far away. Hell he'd probably be so close… Dean shuddered, not wanting to actually think about what his brother could be doing with the evil whore. It was testament to how far Ruby had manipulated Sam that he'd even let himself get involved with her that way. A demon was responsible for their mom, their dad, even Jessica. How Sam could've ever let himself go that far astray was something Dean hoped he'd never know.

Bobby still had the pendulum tracker they had used to find Lillith, and tracking down Ruby hadn't been much of a problem. Dean had sat outside the motel, waiting until Ruby sauntered out and jumped into her suped-up little Mustang and took off, leaving Sam alone.

Finding himself actually nervous about confronting his brother, Dean checked for the gun and knife hidden under his coat and with a deep breath, stepped out of the car and quietly strode across the darkened lot to the door.

He knocked, stepping back as he heard the footsteps approach on the other side. When Sam opened the door, he was met by Dean's Desert Eagle and the cold green of his brother's eyes.

It only took him a moment to get over the surprise. "Hey, Dean. I knew it was just a matter of time until you found me."

"Even though you're a better hunter than me?"

"I never said you weren't good."

"No. I guess you didn't." Dean motioned with the gun for Sam to step back, waiting until the taller man complied before stepping into the room and swinging the door partially shut behind him.

Sam turned his back and strode to the table, taking a seat in one of the wooden chairs so that only his profile was visible. "So… what now big brother? You going to try and reel me back into the fold? You going to try and save me from becoming what I was obviously always meant to be."

"You were never meant to be this."

Sam laughed, the sound cold and hard to Dean's ears. "Why not? Because I'm Dean Winchester's little brother? God's chosen warrior? Yeah, I guess it does look bad for you to have a brother who isn't playing by the same rules as your angel friends, huh? Is that it, Dean? Am I an embarrassment in front of your new colleagues?"

Dean knew Sam was just trying to rile him up, and fought back the urge to grab the kid and shake him until he saw some sense. "This has nothing to do with them."

"Then what is it, Dean? Huh? You still believe Ruby is leading me down the wrong path? You still think she's what's making me go darkside?"

Dean shrugged, stepping around the bed to the other side of the room where he had a better view of his brother's hands. "Something like that."

"Well, hate to break it to you, bro, but I'm not exactly the tag-a-long type. Nobody is leading me anywhere. This was my choice. My destiny."

"That's crap, Sam."

Sam laughed again and nodded. "Maybe. But I'm guessing you still believe you can save me, don't you? How exactly are you going to do that, Dean? I'm not possessed. You can't exorcise me. I'm not being forced to act against my will, I'm making my own decisions. There's nobody you can kill to save me from."

The younger man stood abruptly and took a menacing step forward, his mouth turning up in a grin at the fear he read on Dean's face.

Dean brought the gun up, his arm steady, his aim centered on Sam's chest. "Don't, Sam."

Sam eyed the gun, his grin widening as he took another step. "Quit kidding yourself, Dean. We both know you can't shoot me."

Dean returned the smile, his tinged with sadness and regret, knowing it was something he couldn't deny. "You're right." He lowered the gun, sighing at the look of triumph on Sam's face. "But he can."

Sam's brows knit in confusion as he felt the dark hit home. He turned slightly, taking a second dart in the neck as he noticed the older hunter standing in the doorway, weapon firm in his grip. "Bobby?" His hand went to his neck, his eyes wide as he realized what had happened. The sedative was fast acting and seconds later, Sam's towering form dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

Bobby Singer kept his gun trained on the young hunter, a lifetime of hunting not allowing him to trust that situation was contained until the prey was completely secured. He pulled a pair of cuffs from his coat pocket and tossed them to Dean, who caught them and quickly bound his brother's wrists behind his back.

Only then did Bobby lower the gun. "Sorry, kid."

Snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn

Dean made his way around the clutter, dropping onto the worn sofa in Bobby's front room. He leaned forward, propping his elbows against his knees and allowing his head to drop into his upturned hands.

God he was tired.

They'd managed to get Sam into the Impala, keeping him drugged the entire trip back to South Dakota. Once they'd shackled him to the iron bed in Bobby's panic room, they'd sat back and waited for him to sleep off the drugs, not sure which Sam they would find when he woke up.

It hadn't been pleasant.

At first he'd been angry, trying and failing to snap the iron shackles that tethered him to the heavy frame. Then he changed tactics and tried to manipulate them, trying for the most part to make them believe he'd seen the error of his ways. He'd acted like the old Sammy, but as much as Dean wanted to believe his brother had regained his sense, he knew he couldn't trust him. Whatever Ruby had done to him, Dean was convinced it would take more than a good night's sleep – albeit stoned to the gills on sedatives – to cure him.

Bobby had managed to find a few passages in an obscure book on demonology that made them believe Sam had been drugged by demon blood. It made sense, considering what they now knew about what the Yellow Eyed Demon had done back in Lawrence. If it were true, they could only hope that keeping him from a 'fix' would let the drug work its way out of his system. They had no idea how long withdrawal from something as sinister as that would take, or even if they were on the right track at all. But as long as Sam was secured within the iron walls of the room, Ruby couldn't get to him, not today or tomorrow or next year. And Dean had no problem keeping him there for as long as it took.

Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and leaned back into the soft cushion. He needed sleep. Bobby had gone off to get some shut eye, convincing Dean that they both needed to rest in order to make sure Sam stayed safe. They were no good to him if they were too tired to protect him. They knew Ruby would come eventually. They just hoped they were ready when she did.

If she was what was keeping Sam from seeing the error of his ways, Dean had no problem eliminating her from the equation. Sam would be pissed, but he'd be alive.

And, hopefully, he'd still be Sam.

The sound of the high performance engine outside in the scrap yard brought him from his light doze, and one quick peek through the grimy window showed him a yellow mustang.

Ruby.

Pushing himself up from the sofa, he quickly trekked down the hall, rapping loudly against the partially closed door to Bobby's bedroom. "Show time, Bobby."

Not waiting for the old mechanic, Dean moved back down the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of the knife he held close to his arm, the solid weight of the weapon calming his nerves, giving him a sense of security even though it was probably a false one. He swallowed hard as he stepped across the threshold of Bobby's front door, striding purposely to the edge of the porch.

"Ruby, can't say this is a pleasant surprise."

The demon stood about twenty yards from the bottom of the steps, her arms crossed her hip stuck out as she regarded the hunter.

"You've always been a huge pain in my ass, Dean."

"Nice to know I made a good impression."

Ruby huffed, dropping her arms and tossing her hair behind her shoulder. "Where's Sam?"

"Somewhere you can't get your slimy hands on him."

Ruby watched him for a moment, a slight smile playing on her host's pretty face. "I always knew Sam was the smart one. You can't save him, Dean. Although it is admirable how hard you've tried. He's made his choice."

"With your 'helpful' guidance." The sarcasm nearly dripped from his deep voice.

The demon's grin widened and she shrugged, looking up at Dean from beneath heavily mascara'd lashes. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

Dean nodded, conceding the statement. Ruby did have a tendency to pick attractive bodies. Unfortunately, Dean had already seen the demon's true face, and he had no problem ignoring the surface beauty to see the ugliness he knew was just below the surface. "I'll bet. But your kind of persuasion isn't gonna work anymore."

"Still delusional, huh Dean? The Sam you knew is gone. He's all mine now. Hook, line and sinker." She tilted her head in time with her words, emphasizing the strength of the hold she had over the younger Winchester. "Sam's on board with our plans for him. He knows what he's doing and he's looking forward to it."

Dean shook his head. "No. He knows the lies you fed him to get him this far. But whatever hold you had on him? It's over."

Her smile was back, her own head shaking in mock sympathy for the human before her. "Dean, Dean, Dean. Still trying to play the big brother. Except little brother is so much smarter and stronger than you. That's why we chose him to begin with. That's why I was sent to make sure everything fell into place."

"Like me going to Hell."

Ruby nodded again, her face quickly folding into an expression of disgust. "Until those stupid angels pulled you out and threw a little wrench into everything. But luckily, Sam was already so far gone that even you couldn't pull him back. Once you died, Sam was so wracked with guilt and pain that it was easy to just swoop in a pick up the pieces. After a while, he started to trust me. Then… well, I'll let you guess the rest. But trust me, it was a hell of a lot more fun than you were having."

Dean was repulsed by the thought of her anywhere near his brother. "You're nothing more than a skanky little black-eyed whore."

"Oooh, that hurts." Ruby laughed. "I guess you're not gonna be giving us your blessing, huh? Oh well. I doubt if that'll be much of a problem. After all, your brother doesn't need you anymore, Dean. He doesn't need your approval, or your protection. He can take care of himself."

Finally, something they agreed on. "Yeah, he can. And he doesn't need your help to do it."

"No. But I'm pretty sure he wants it."

Now they were getting somewhere. "What did you do to him?"

Ruby's grin was enough to make Dean want to smack her, just to knock it off her smug little face. "Just reinforced what Azazel started."

"Demon blood?" It's what they'd expected, but it still made him shiver in revulsion to hear it out loud.

Ruby's eyes widened in surprise. "My, maybe you aren't as dumb as I thought."

Dean didn't bother to keep the disgust from his voice. "So you what? Addicted him? Got him hooked on your skank offerings and then got him to use his powers knowing it would pull him down even further?"

"If you have all the answers, short-bus, why are you asking me?"

He let the insult slide, knowing whatever plan she was a part of was not going to run as smoothly as she'd hoped. "I just wanted to hear you say it. The only way you could possible get Sam to do your dirty work was to trick him and drug him. Guess I'm not surprised. Like I said before, you are one butt-ugly chick."

"Sam doesn't seem to think so."

Dean glared at her, a sneer of distaste lifting one corner of his mouth. "He's only seen the wrapping paper, bitch."

Ruby took a deep breath and released it, obviously not appreciating the insult. "This is getting boring. Where is Sam?"

"Out of your reach." Dean stepped back, pulling the door open, turning his back on the demon in dismissal. "Go to Hell, Ruby."

"He's going to need me. You'll see. You're not going to be able to stop him from finding me. He'll come. He has to. I made sure he didn't have a choice."

Dean turned, slamming the screen door, looking out as the brunette climbed the stairs to the porch. "Sam isn't going anywhere near you."

"You're not listening, Dean. You said it yourself. He's addicted. He needs me. There is nothing you can do to stop him from finding me."

"He can't find you if you're dead."

As Dean stepped back, she pushed against the screen door and stepped into the house, gasping in surprise as the hunter turned abruptly, splashing her with the contents of a silver flask. She screamed bringing her hands to her face as the holy water burned her skin, giving Dean the opening he needed to grab her and toss her into the center of the room.

Seething in anger, the formerly smooth skin of her face smoking from the destructive force of the holy water, Ruby started toward the hunter, only to be stopped by the edge of the devil's trap painted overhead on the ceiling of the room.

She stood, her breath heaving in her chest, her eyes black as she glared at the hunter.

"Kill me and you kill your brother."

"Maybe. Or maybe that's just another demon lie. Either way, you'll never go near Sam again."

Bobby cleared his throat on the opposite side of the room and, as Ruby turned toward him, he opened the book he held in his hands and began the exorcism.

The End

_I couldn't actually remember if they'd ever gotten the knife back from Alistair, so wasn't sure if I could use it. It would have been ironic to kill her with her own knife, but either way, I got her out of the way. Now Sam can get better and be Sam again. g I'm happy. _


End file.
